Post-It: ETD 00:05am

[maced_eggs]

Right. Gather around, kids. Uncle Mason is here to teach you about what you need to know to survive in your crazy little worlds once you redeem yourselves and go on to live full, productive lives.

First, you need money to survive. So you can either steal, or you can get a job. Job is safer, but it's more work, so if you're going to do the job route you want somewhere where you can slack off as much as humanly possible. Night security, retail, stocking, anythin' like that. Bonus if you're stocking because it means you can lift things on the side. But if you're going the stealing route, leave the credit cards. Cash is king. And hocking stolen merchandise can be a pain in the ass: don't steal things you yourself can't use.

Next, you're gonna need a place to live, right? So what you do is you pick up your newspaper and flip to the local obituary section. Look for older men who live alone, preferably with their kids living out of state. Then go to their houses an' break in. You've got yourself a place! An' sometimes the kids forget to write the social security office so you get free checks too.

Which leaves showering. Don't fuckin' throw your money away on washing clothes. Wear your nastiest, rattiest outfit and go down to the Salvation Army. Pick out clothes you like, switch them out for the ones you're wearing and walk out the door. None the wiser.

Next lessons, we will cover meals, dating, and fighting blokes twice your size. Have I fucking graduated yet? Yes? Fucking hell.

Comments

[walkingmeltdown]

[That actually gets a small, of rough, chuckle out of him.] I don't have all my powers. I could melt most of the walls here around me if I wanted to, were that the case. My abilities have been rather capped. As to how radioactive I am...now it's probably more a level somewhat like a cell phone or an appliance. Not nonexistent but not too terribly dangerous, either.

[maced_eggs]

More'n I was allowed to keep. That's fairness for you.

[walkingmeltdown]

What powers did you have?

[maced_eggs]

I take souls from their bodies. An' I've got rapid healing. An' I can't die.

Lot less dangerous than radioactivity.

[walkingmeltdown]

You want to maybe explain that first part for me a little bit more. [Bemused incredulity.]

I don't actually want my powers. I would have been more than happy if the ship had taken away all of it. I wasn't born like this.

[maced_eggs]

It's the job. I'm a grim reaper. I take the souls of people who are going to die.

An' neither was I. Had it forced on me, didn't I? But that doesn't mean the Admiral can take it without asking.

[walkingmeltdown]

Grim reaper. So that's a real thing in your world, is it. [Musing, distractedly.]

Around here actually I'm rather afraid it means he very much can. None of us like it.

[maced_eggs]

I know, I know: no one else has heard of us before. It's good. You're not meant to.

It's a pain in the arse. I can die here. That's terrifying. I want your powers.

[walkingmeltdown]

[He laughs harshly.] No, you don't. But be careful what you wish for, around here there might just end up at some point being a way to trade.

[maced_eggs]

Right. Right, the wishing thing.

Wouldn't be so bad, being a glowing skull. I wouldn't have to flip the light on to get up to piss in the middle of the night.

[walkingmeltdown]

Sure, I never need a flashlight. The glow is a constant thing - even when I'm sleeping. Or perhaps more accurately, trying to sleep.

[maced_eggs]

You're a one-man rave, my friend.

[walkingmeltdown]

So the ladies tell me.

[Well, the one lady. But she did seem to find it rather enjoyable.]

[maced_eggs]

You're a ladies' man? All the goth chicks must be really into you.

[walkingmeltdown]

Well I do try. [A rather dry quip.] 'Goth' was never really my scene though...well, there was that one girl. In college. But she was more jigpunk.

[maced_eggs]

The fuck is jigpunk?

[walkingmeltdown]

Punk meets Celtic folk. Where exactly on the globe are you from, anyway?

[maced_eggs]

I don't tend to go for the punk scene, sorry. Much more classic rock.

[walkingmeltdown]

I see. Also, you failed to answer my question.

[maced_eggs]

Whassit matter where I'm from?

[walkingmeltdown]

Well frankly, I'm trying to come up with something resembling a positive and acceptable reason for why you talk like that.

[maced_eggs]

Oh, yeah? What do I talk like, Mister, Mister Flamey Skull? With all your...colloquialisms an' shit.

[walkingmeltdown]

[You just get such a disdainful look, Mason. And considering he was practically raised to do this, we're talking Professional Level Disdain here.]

Are you quite finished? Or haven't you dug your own grave deep enough yet?

[maced_eggs]

I'm forty fuckin' years in the ground! Can't go much deeper'n rock bottom, can I?

But for your information...is'London. I was raised in London.

[walkingmeltdown]

You see, that's what I thought. [Folded arms and an eyebrow raise.] Was that really so hard?